


The Exhibitionist

by robotboy



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Deaf Character, Ficlet, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-23 02:24:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17071682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robotboy/pseuds/robotboy
Summary: A ficlet fill for deaf Silver.





	The Exhibitionist

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt on [blacksailskinkmeme: _Not sure if repeated but, silverflint modern w deaf silver and sign language fluffy fluffness._](https://blacksailskinkmeme.tumblr.com/post/181229994062/not-sure-if-repeated-but-silverflint-modern-w) Just @ me, come on.
> 
>  
> 
> [Moodboard because I'm a moodboard-making fiend.](http://r0b0tb0y.tumblr.com/post/181266839752/the-exhibitionist-tidied-up-the-deaf-silver-ficlet)
> 
>  
> 
> [Continuation by purplecelery!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17193686)

At first, James thinks it’s a gay vibe.

The guy wears a v-neck that sits somewhere around his navel, and shorts only the boldest straight man would wear. But it’s the way his body tilts inwards when his friend talks to him, his eyes tracing over the friend’s mouth. The friend’s face disappears in the guy’s curls to say something in his ear, and James bites his lip. He’s taken, obviously, but maybe not—a girl rushes over and throws her arms around the friend, pulling him away. V-neck waves them goodbye, standing restlessly for a minute.

James has been standing restlessly since he saw the guy across the room.  _Don’t go over,_ he thinks.  _You’re reading too much into it._

But guy the shifts his weight, pats his pocket and heads out to the balcony. James finishes his beer in one swallow and follows him out.

The night air is cool, and it’s gloomier out here, harder to see. A light flares as v-neck lights a cigarette, painting his face gold and leaving after-images stained cherry-red in James’ eyes. He glances up and James looks away, at the uneven rooftops around them. James keeps the guy in the corner of his eye, just enough to make out the billow of smoke blown through his lips, the way his whole stance slackens, and the empty hand sliding up his neck. It’s probably reflexive, James thinks, but it’s tantalising. He’s staring again and catches the way the guy presses behind his ear, blinking, and then another deep sigh as he relaxes.

 _Oh,_ James realises. So there was a vibe, but maybe not  _that_  one. Well. One way to find out.

James waves _h_ _i_ as he approaches, and v-neck gives him a quizzical smile. But he angles himself towards James in the same way he had with the friend, and his lips purse around the cigarette, his eyes dragging over James as he sucks in smoke.

 _You’re Deaf?_ James asks.

The guy’s eyes go wide. He holds up his right hand, seems surprised there’s a cigarette in it, then transfers it to his left.

 _Yes,_ he signs, still looking flustered.  _But no, I don’t sign… good._

James laughs softly, nodding.  _OK._

 _Sorry,_ he fumbles.

It was a long shot, James reminds himself. The photographer launching her exhibition is Deaf, but plenty of people at the opening party don’t know sign language.

James moves back a little, giving the guy space to finish smoking in peace. But the guy holds up a hand. He pulls a face at his cigarette before stubbing it out in an ashtray. That leaves him free to spell out, slowly:  _John._

 _James_ , James replies. John shakes his head in confusion, and James spells it again, mouthing the letters.

 _James_ , the guy mouths back to him, nodding confidently. He offers his hand and James shakes it. It’s broad, his grip just firm enough that James wonders what this guy has to prove. They both hold a little longer than they need to, and stand a little closer than they need to. Maybe it’s just habit, if this guy is used to lipreading. Maybe.

John looks him over again, and asks:  _You know…_ he pantomimes taking a photograph.

 _Photographer?_ James shows him the sign. John repeats it back.

 _Yes, she’s a friend,_ James says, watching John’s eyes to be sure he’s following along.  _You?_

John bites his lip. James wants to bite it too. John casts his eyes around, glance trailing back over James' figure before returning to his face. It’s definitely not just that he’s looking for the word.

 _M-o-d-e-l,_ John spells on his fingers.

Normally, James hates having a conversation in low light. But it’s the only way there’s a whiff of a chance John won’t catch him blushing. Not a single model in the exhibition is clothed, a fact James had only considered with cool artistic appreciation until just now. A quirk of John’s eyebrows suggests that he knows exactly what James is thinking.

 _Come inside,_ John signs, a little more confident with his words. He has a smile so close and so small, it can only be for James.  _I’ll show you._

**Author's Note:**

> Keep reading over here with [purplecelery's steamy continuation!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17193686)


End file.
